Under the Influence
by Imagination12
Summary: It wasn't her fault, really, that she had to save her Professor from the Manus. She should blame him for doing a ritual in public and Potsdam for teaching them how to make love potions in the first place. Just because she had a knack for being unprepared didn't mean anything. One shot, minor language.


The first day of school, a love note, and a recipe with a significant mistake.

She had never been very good at preparing for things. She forgot number two pencils before exams, her toothbrush when she stayed the night at a friend's house, and "you mean that paper was due _today_?" came out of her mouth a few more times than she wanted to admit. This, unfortunately, often times led to some unfortunate situations.

Three examples came to mind when she spoke of this habit.

I. The First Day of School

It was only when she was walking through the campus, admiring the number of doors and windows that seemed to be everywhere on the nearly gleaming buildings and beginning to sweat under the robe and cape of her uniform, that she realized she had no idea where her dormitory was. She knew it was Horse Hall, signified on her outfit and explained in a letter she'd gotten a week earlier. However, she had expected herself to remember the directions printed, which she had read not twenty minutes before this moment. No dice.

She glanced down at her suitcases, mentally tracing where the letter would be. She remembered putting it in the wide front pocket but could barely remember which one it was. Her feet began to slow as she put more focus into finding her directions than the current direction she was walking. Which bag was it? She had the feeling the memory was on the tip of her tongue, except she wasn't speaking aloud. The tip of her brain? That sounded stupid. It was about to hit her, though. She took in one last deep breath, preparing for the realization.

That's when it hit her. Or, rather, _he_ hit her. Actually, she hit him. Luckily, she'd slowed down enough at that point that the two of them were only slightly stunned by the collision.

Looking back on it, she should have known better than to think he would have pity on her soul. There was something about him, maybe his eyes or the way he held himself, that spelled trouble. When he first seemed to sympathize with her, assuring her he was fine and asking for her name, she foolishly believed she would get away with her mistake. Again, no dice.

Upon realizing she was Wildseed, a sneer curled his lip, and he assured her that her newly assigned demerits were not a good first impression. She assured him that being an asshole to a student on the first day for not being perfectly poised and avoiding collision – something that was partly his fault because he hadn't move either! – and assigning demerits was also not a good first impression.

Alright, so maybe her words were more mental than actually something she said. But she did think it very hard and look at him, so he probably got the gist of it. With a sweep of his cape, he stalked away. She silently fumed before turning to the bag on the right – she was sure that was it – to pull out her map of campus grounds.

For lack of preparation, she earned ten demerits and a pissed off Professor. Virginia would later reassure her that Grabby treated everyone that way.

II. A Love Note

When Damien first suggested the idea of the love note, she was skeptical. Her entire life – okay, just since the fifth grade – had been dedicated to avoiding stupid romantic drama. One of her best friends was a Drama girl, named such for her propensity towards theater and overcomplicated relationships with boys. It was when Hannah had begun dating Justin in fifth grade that she realized _she didn't want this_ and swore to avoid stupid romance whenever possible.

Writing a love letter for a boy she didn't actually like with a womanizer reputation? It reeked of stupid romantic drama. However, she eventually gave in to the idea. How much trouble could it cause, really? It was just a stupid love letter. All she had to do was write flowery bullshit. Right?

Wrong. This time, her lack of preparation wasn't really her own fault. Who else would have expected the love letter to end up in the wrong hands? Okay, so maybe the idea wasn't too much of a stretch. Some teenage romance novel Hannah bought her last year had the same thing happen. But since when was her life a romance novel?

It was when Grabiner lifted the pink paper as if it were a particularly disgusting piece of laundry that she knew it. Her life was a romance novel. That must be it. Either that, or it was some other genre. Things like this didn't just _happen_ in her life. She was perfectly normal before Iris Academy, thank you very much. Minus pulling a magically enhanced jump, she had been fine. Why were these kinds of things happening to her now? Had someone cursed her on the first day?

The question of whether to confess or not didn't even register with her. The sight of the shock and terror in Ellen's eyes when she shot a glance over had answered for her. Very easily, she admitted that she had written the letter. Again, lack of preparation struck. She likely should have thought her words out before throwing out the comment. Her sentence didn't include the fact she had written it for someone else, and Grabiner swiftly and mercilessly punished her for this.

For lack of preparation, she earned ten demerits and a pissed off Professor. Damien would later explain the situation and get her those points back.

III. A Recipe With A Significant Mistake

It was early January when Black magic first covered Love Potions in Potsdam's class. She chattered about how she had planned to do them in February in the spirit of Valentine's Day, but they had progressed more quickly than she expected and would be starting early. The potion was basic but effective, and after ingesting the potion, she spent that evening locked in her room in an attempt to avoid Pastel, who had been her partner that day. Part of her desperately wanted to go outside and kiss the Butterfly Hall girl, but the strong belief that she should avoid all romantic drama, especially while under the influence, held true and allowed her to continue locking the door against Pastel's Open spells.

The next week, during one of her Study days, she headed to an empty Potion's laboratory to practice. The effects of her potion had only lasted about three hours on Pastel compared to her six and a half hours of romantic torture. While this meant Pastel left more quickly, it also meant she was left sulking about how she still contemplated what scent of shampoo Pastel used while Pastel moved on to… doing whatever it is Butterfly Hall girls do.

However, she also wanted to practice other colors of magic to somehow repent for the embarrassment of the most recent exam. She had done very poorly against the Hodag. While Potsdam's healing spells ensured she wasn't actually injured in the long run, her body still ached and her ego was still bruised. In her haste to continue to other subjects, her horrible habit of not preparing struck.

She kept an obsessed eye over the cauldron while the potion was brewing, controlling the temperature and timing of each step very precisely. When she finished, she pondered to whom she should drink the potion. In a move that was both incredibly bold and one of the worst decisions she'd ever made, she decided to use Professor Grabiner as the object of her affections. After all, he was the person she hated the most. If she managed to feel romantic interest in him, she most certainly had done the potion correctly. The image of his snarling face in her mind, she downed the dose.

It was only after she had swallowed that she realized something was wrong. At first it was just a prickling of the hairs on the back of her neck, instinctively telling her that she needed to be careful. She wanted to just brush it off as a reaction to the idea of loving Grabiner, which nauseatingly enough had already begun, but the sensation was just enough to pull her into full observation through her senses. Fully focused, she finally noted what was wrong: her mouth didn't taste like mint. The potion was supposed to have a minty aftertaste, and while the flavor was there, it was slightly off. Her eyes locked on the small glass vial still held in her hand, and the first fact hit her.

While in class, Potsdam had noted that a teaspoon of the potion should last for the rest of the day. In that moment, she hadn't thought to write the fact down, leading to her pouring and consuming a tablespoon instead of a teaspoon. With most potions, this wouldn't be a big deal. However, due to the way love potions tied into hormones, doses worked exponentially. What should have lasted six and a half hours would now last for 275 hours.

This, alone, would be horrible. However, when she nearly flew across the room to check the rest of the recipe, she noticed why the taste of mint was gone. Instead of brewing Elixir of Love, she had made Draught of Love. The two were very easy to switch, due to the fact they used the same process to brew. However, there were differences in ingredients that caused the love to occur.

First, she'd used rose petals instead of rose thorns. While both would work, the petals caused the potion to be less potent but last for longer, at the least tripling the time it would take to wear off. As well, though the recipe didn't specify this, she'd crushed the leaves instead of thinly slicing them. It's a very easy mistake to make, considering the very slight difference between crush and thin slice, especially with a dull knife. This also magnified the time it would take to wear off, doubling it. She had taken a potion that would last six times longer than it should.

Second, she'd used spearmint instead of peppermint leaves. While the tastes of the two are very similar, she had enough experience with the varieties of mint-flavored chewing gum to notice the change. The leaves of the two are nearly the same shape, only distinguished by the way they grow; one has leaves growing from stems while the other grows leaves almost directly from the branch. When she took them out of the supply closet per her instructions, she thought they were the same as what they had used in class without any branch to gauge their type. The switch to spearmint meant that the potion worked subtly. Instead of causing true infatuation, it would result in something only an edge above fondness; the kind of cloying sweet romance that leads to writing your initials with your sweetheart's last name as opposed to obsession and planning out your future children's lives.

She had taken a love potion which would, on calculation, cause her to have a subtle crush on Professor Grabiner that would last ten weeks. The love was just strong enough to cause changes in behavior, but not so strong as to be obvious. As panic began to set in, her mind raced to find a solution, or at least a way to wait until it wore off. She could hide the symptoms. If no one asked, they would never know. It was then that she assured herself that she could get through this without revealing the effects of the potion.

It wasn't even a full week later that she came across her Professor – and when did he become _hers_? – sprawled on the floor while a Manus hovered above him, appearing ready to eat his soul. The potion forced her Horse instincts to kick in and give her no choice about whether to come to his rescue, almost flying across the room in her haste to save him. This caused a terrifying chain reaction through the Manus' claim over her, eventually leading to a rather unfortunate marriage.

For a moment, before she made her vow, she wondered if, for her own sake, she should take drink another potion at the end of the ten weeks to continue the pleasant emotions. As far as her crush was concerned, this was heaven, while her practical side was ready to punch _the _– not _her_ – professor in the face. He was being such a _jerk_, to avoid some more colorful terms, about the situation. Why was he even performing the Manus ritual in such a public place? Yes, she would place the blame on him. She would most certainly ignore the little niggling voice in the back of her head reminding her that if she hadn't screwed up the potion this might not have happened.

For lack of preparation, she earned a marriage and a pissed off Professor. Potsdam would later act as if the occasional blush she sported at the mention of his name between the two of them was an actual crush, insisting that she act on her feelings as his wife.

In the end, failing to prepare gave her nothing but trouble and made sure that Professor Grabiner was continually pissed.

* * *

_This was based on a short story prompt that made the first line of the story: The first day of school, a love note, and a recipe with a significant mistake. When I saw the combination of first day and love note, I knew I had to find some way to tie this to marrying Grabiner._

_If you notice any grammatical or tense errors, feel free to mention them. I accidentally wrote the third part in first person and switched it to third, but there may be a couple of "I" and "me" left. _


End file.
